Since the day my sun died.

~*~

Whenever the fleeting spark of joy lights in my heart, it dies out instantly. I don’t mean to be negative, or to dwell on a pessimistic feeling too much, but regardless of what I do everything always flows into a grayish gutter. My emotions find their way back into a cage, and all that I’m left with is the feeling of being afloat in a disgusting sewage dump. Waiting to rot, waiting for the currents to take me wherever.

I’ve always been told that I was a grumpy old soul. I see myself for what I am, a bitter piece of shit.

I haven’t always been like this.

There was a time where I woke up with a big smile on my face, and I couldn’t wait to greet the morning sun, thankful to be alive.

That was before the day my sun died. Since then, the years have dulled out my laughter, and no matter how blue the sky is I see it polluted. Nothing lasts, nothing pure is allowed to remain pure.

~*~

Her hair was long golden river that flowed all the way down to her hips, her eyes were a pair of shiny emeralds. Her heart was made out of gold, her soul was made out of silver and her words were made of chocolate. Nenechi, she was such a treasure.

~*~

School was easy. People were complicated. Being one of the top scorers of the class had its perks, at the cost that I had never held a genuine friendship. Everyone had an ulterior motive, behind every warm greeting there was a favor they tried to get out of me. I need the answers for this, for that, I need a partner for this project, so it goes.

It didn’t help my situation that I was a social recluse, I was, after all, going through phases like all teenagers do. I was angry at the world, and had no outlet for it. Angry for no reason other than just because I got the short end of the social stick. People can be so dehumanizing when they judge someone. I had needs, feelings and emotions like everyone else, but to many I was just known as the designated class nerd.

Looking back, I was probably, most likely, overthinking. My woes must've been make-believe, I'm mature enough today to see that. But when I felt them back then, they felt real.

What I needed so I could grow up, so I could mature past my self, was for someone to prove me wrong.

One fateful day, I was in a terrible mood. I don’t remember why. It was probably some mundanity that my overly-emotional heart was exaggerating. There was homework due that morning, that I do remember. Naturally, flocks of little pests came flying by asking for the answers, but today I wasn’t in the mood to be a charity.

I don’t have ‘em, I told everyone that asked. Some glared at me, as if I had been indebted to them and had just spat in our contract, some panicked that the problems were so complicated they stumped the know-it-all.

One particular person approached me that day. My cold, cold heart would feel her genuine warmth.

Momosuzu Nene.

“Anon!” Her cheery voice spoke.

“What?”

“Did you, uh, do the math homework?”

“Nope, didn’t.”

“Ohhh…”

Another one done and done. With that, I turned back to my phone and kept pretending to read something solely so the others wouldn’t bother me. I didn’t think anything of it. But then...

Soon, the sound of footsteps approached my desk again, and I saw Nenechi walking towards me with her copybook in hand.

“Here!” She smiled. “You can copy mine! I’m, like, 99% sure they’re correct!”

I looked at the copybook as she stretched it out to me, confused, with my heart in hand. I grabbed it, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I felt Nenechi’s curious eyes on my shoulder, and all they did was haste my step.

I needed to get out of sight, somewhere where I could be alone.

So, I went to the toilets, entered a stall, I sat down.

And I cried.

Pathetic? Sure. But it was the reaction I could muster. My tears weren’t bitter either, they were tears of a strange joy. I don’t think I knew that kind of genuine, disinterested affection, with no letters at the end of the contract. Not before her, that’s for sure.

Over the next few days I began greeting her with the confidence of a rock. On the halls, in class, when I passed her by, I just liked doing so. Whenever I did, she’d give me that trademark smile of hers, and beamed with an energy that I had trouble believing was even real. But it was.

I began offering myself to help her with her homework, I passed her the answers for tests, I did things that I previously despised doing because I felt that she deserved it, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her. The switch in my attitude didn't go unnoticed.

Eventually our little interactions bloomed into a friendship, a beautiful flower that we had both cared for.

Nenechi began searching for me during recess and lunch, we walked home together, that sort of thing. I could’ve listened to her ramble about for hours, and just be happy to see her so happy about literally anything. That girl was in love with life itself, I was in love with how in love she was with life.

I hold the petals of our flower dear in my heart, I touch their silky texture and reminiscence of moments we shared. To remember her is to make her real once more.

~*~

Nenechi had an endless supply of energy. She was the answer to the perpetual motion machine problem. Trains, planes, and nuclear powerplants could’ve ran on Nenechium if it was a real element. She couldn’t keep still for more than 5 minutes, and often her mind wandered off while her body ran on autopilot - An aspect of her that would've doomed her academically if the teachers didn't have extra patience with her. It was impossible to get mad at that empty-headed girl.

She was also incredibly fit. Handstands and cartwheels were like a second nature to her. One time, after a morning class of P.E. which had obliterated my abs and paper-thin arms, Nenechi asked how I did. Naturally, I told her I was about to die because my stomach felt like it was going to fall apart. In turn, she told me that she had a strong midsection. I asked “Really?” Out of pure reflex. I didn’t think she would do what she did.

“Of course!” She replied with a smug, proud smile. “Look!”

Like that, she lifted her shirt and showed me her stomach, causing me to blush in a panic. She didn’t show anything but it was so sudden that I didn’t know how to react.

“Nene! Pull your shirt down!” I yelled. I didn’t want the others to see, and yet I had shot myself in the leg, because my scream was louder than Nenechi’s voice. Soon enough, everyone turned their heads to look at the scene at hand.

“But look! It’s super hard, touch it!” She replied, uncaring. Meanwhile, the pain my body was in subsidized, simply because I felt like dying of embarrassment. Shivery, my hands grabbed her wrists, and slowly pulled them down, to which Nenechi replied by lifting them once again - Carrying my hands with her.

“Touch it!” She pouted.

It was true, her abs were rock-solid.

Every day I learned something new about her. There were layers upon layers of Nenechi, both about the wonderfully genuine person she was, and the absolute airhead she also was.

For one, I learned that Nenechi was quite the artist. She had shown me manga worthy drawings, some of them were cute girls, others were over the top fights that put the chuuniest of anime to shame. She even showed me a notebook where she had written both the coolest and lamest one liners for the thousands of characters she had made up. When I asked about them, she re -enacted them, and putting her hands in a triangle, she aimed at me with one eye closed and went “Super Nenechi, Ultimate lightbringer beam!”

She made my heart smile, while my face expressed disdain. I used to playfully berate her and she replied in smug and exalted giggles. It was our little back and forth, our way of telling each other we were friends.

So, one time he invited me over to have lunch at her house to ‘See her beetles’. I thought nothing of it. If the person I was following was different, the outcome would’ve been different. I don’t care for it, I wanted the outcome only Nenechi could give. Inviting someone over to watch beetles fight should be a common pick up line.

Her parents weren’t home, we went to her room…!

And she ran towards her bed, jumped to fall atop of it, and missed it entirely.

I stifled my laugh the best I could while Nenechi let out whimpers of pain and tears of embarrassment, begging me to not look and to please bring her something for the pain.

Her room was filled with plenty of plushies and random trinkets that she showed me in great detail. The walls were adorned with colorful drawings of her characters, at least the pieces she deemed worthy of exiting the sketching stage. She told me she had asked her dad for a tablet for Christmas.

During lunch, she spilled her juice on her lap. The natural response, would’ve been to get changed and to clean up. Nenechi, of course, far above these mortal conceptions of conventional solutions, opted to sniff her skirt, and marveled herself at the nice smell that came from it. I had to dissuade her from the idea of sucking the juice out of the cloth. She told me it would’ve been okay, after all, she liked to drink spring water and only got sick once.

When I asked what she meant by spring water, she said it was water from the season of spring. Of course, she had drank bottles with the tittle of "Spring water." but once, oh, the genius idea of filling up a bottle herself came to her. So spring was in full bloom, and reaching the outskirts of the city, she filled her water bottle by the riverside and drank it, only to drag herself home with a stomach ache.

I wasn't taking any chances with the skirt juice.

After she had changed - And I urged her to put something on her bottom - She showed me her beetles, members of her proud bug-catching hobby.

“What are you, 6?” I mocked her.

“Nope, I’m 14!” She smiled.

I learned all about how she liked to catch and breed beetles. My inner child shined through as I mentioned that, when I was a kid, stag beetles were the coolest of all insects. Nenechi told me I was wrong, and that it was rhinoceros beetles. Always have been, and always will be.

A heated argument began, discussing the various cool-factors of beetles. Nenechi was really into it, too, like she was taking it super seriously. I enjoyed those mindless hours of fun more than anything. She was from another world, that girl, and she merely came to earth to learn how we humans lived.

Everything her eyes touched was doused with a spark of wonder, even the most mundane and dull objects had a glittering magic only her eyes could see.

Of course, sometimes she behaved like a mischievous gremlin, but I do not linger on it too much. That is because whenever Nenechi realized that she had threaded too far, overstepped a line that she shouldn't cross, she wholeheartedly apologized. Knowing that she meant no harm, I was unable to get mad, and if I was, I wasn't mad at her, I was just mad at her antics. Not pride not ill-will would burn the bridge of our friendship, and she made sure of it. The average person could learn so much from this girl.

By the time I went home, all I could think about was how much I wanted the day to go faster so that we would see each other again. I’d count the minutes, the seconds, and I would arrive to school early to greet her with a loud and cheerful “Good morning!”.

Sensitive and soft hearted, yet bubbly and cheerful, Nenechi was a little ray of sunshine, and I was lucky enough to have basked in its warmth. Ironically, my favorite memory of this warm person happened during winter.

We met to catch up on a winter break assignment. I didn’t put much care in my clothes as long as they kept me warm, so I just grabbed whatever I found in my closet. When Nenechi opened the door, the first thing she did was laugh at me, and then, she told me I looked like a carrot.

My jacket was a tone of light brown that barely hinged on orange, and my hat was a dark green, only then I noticed. To this day I don’t know why I’m so fond of this memory. Nothing 'special' happened during the day, but I still come back to it.

In due time I met her parents. Her dad was always working, always busy. I only saw him twice. Her mother, on the other hand, gave me a deep and grateful thanks for caring for her daughter, despite that she was ‘Quite a handful’.

She never appreciated the girl she had. I doubt she ever saw the shining light in her eyes like I had seen it. Nenechi was a chore in her eyes, and in mine she was a moment of respite.

What truly overflowed the bottle, the straw that broke the camel’s back, was one of our teachers that arrived in our high school. A bitter, old fuck who took out his problems on a bunch of teenagers. As if a person like him couldn't be any more unlikable, he was there because he was the principal's nephew, giving him an unspoken immunity to the guidelines other teachers followed.

Hiroshi Nakamura.

~*~

From day one the ambiance of the classroom was tainted by his ill-moods. There hadn’t to be a trigger to his demeanor, he merely was an asshole because life made him an asshole. His favorite game was picking random students and asking them questions of the class. The catch was that when you messed up, he threw at you passive-aggressive reproaches, barely stepping onto the terrain of insults. ‘How can you not know this? What are you even doing?’ And other unwarranted comments. He made it very clear that many of us wouldn’t get far in life, that no college would take us, et cetera. I just wanted the year to be over so that enough complaints would reach the principal and he would get put in line. Wishing he got kicked out was too wishful.

But the day that I truly began to hate him, was the day that he picked Nene for his little sadistic game.

She had been in his scope for quite some time. Everything Nenechi did irked him. Perhaps it was jealousy of something he would never achieve; happiness, perhaps this pathetic old man was what I would’ve turned into if Nenechi hadn’t come by my life at the time she did.

The teachers knew that Nenechi was ‘different’, that she was 'special'

To me she was special too, just without the quotation marks.

Nakamura didn't care. They didn't pay him enough to be respectful to those he considered below him.

So, one day, as he’s busy writing down formulas on the chalkboard, Nenechi was loudly eating a crunchy candy bar.

I ushered her to stop, because I knew that she was throwing bait at a shark. The poor girl, my poor Nenechi, thought I wanted a bite of it, and she stretched it to me.

“Nene, no, no!” I muttered. Driving a nail into my heart, she snapped it in two and put a piece in my hand. It was too loud for the asshole in front to not hear it.

And so, hell broke loose. Nakamura loudly smacked his ruler onto his desk. Like an alarm, it reverberated through the classroom, and everyone froze, except for Nenechi, who still held out her candy to me.

“Momosuzu-san, stand up.”

“Y-Yes!” Nenechi bolted up.

“Can you tell me what happens with this variable when the value of x is negative?”

“Uh…” Nenechi gloomed.

I wanted to whisper her the answer so she would get out of it, but my words died in my throat.

“Ymous-san.” Nakamura now spoke to me. “You mutter the answer to her, and I’ll deduct it from your grade.”

I glared at him in silence. What was that for?! I was getting hot-headed, too much for my own good. It was a mix of anger towards him, a feeling of indignation, a genuine hate, and a feeling of wanting to protect Nenechi from this miserable pig.

Nenechi, as expected, got the answer wrong.

Now, slips happen. Sometimes you might say something you don’t mean. Nakamura was different, he meant the words he said, he merely kept them in check because he knows there’s things he mustn't say, things that won’t fly. But he… that monster, he pushed it simply to prove he could, simply to show that he was in charge.

“I really have no words suitable for you, Momosuzu.” He readjusted his glasses. “I can’t believe the school put up with a retard like you for so long-”

And so, I snapped.

“Back off, you fucking dipshit!” I yelled, for everyone to hear it. A few gasps, a few snarky giggles echoed through the room, and I saw the eyes of rage that beamed inside of Nakamura. He walked towards my seat, trying to look imposing with his hands behind his back, but all he managed -at least in my eyes- was to look like a coward.

“Come again, Ymous-san?” He spoke.

“I said…”

“Say it.” He pressed me on. His trick was probably to make me conscious of my overreaction, and it was working. I had blown the thing out of proportion, but I didn’t care, or so I cope today, because back then, I was cowering like a puppy.

“Come on, say it, tough guy.” He repeated himself as his face drew uncomfortably close towards my ear.

He lifted his ruler next to my face, it waved mockingly from side to side. I eyed the ruler with great detail, waiting for him to commit to his act. He hadn’t the guts to slap me, I knew even he wasn’t that stupid.

Nenechi didn’t.

Thinking that I was in danger she kicked him right between the legs, letting me get a good look of his painful retribution drawn across his face.

At first I smirked, and then I panicked.

The class lost it. ‘Nenechi kicked Nakamura in the balls!’ Someone screamed. Soon enough, other classrooms were drawn to the scene. Hearsay blew the thing out of proportion even more, saying that a fistfight had broken out… ah, whatever, it’s high schooler gossip. Everyone knows it’s worthless.

The aftermath is what I dreaded. While Nakamura laid on the floor, I knew that things would never be the same.

We were both thrown to the principal's office to get an earful. The aggression of a teacher was no small feat, no matter if it was deserved. Naturally, the adults considered us children, and gave no justification to our acts. Nakamura, in his own wretched words, was merely dishing out disciplinary reproaches, the ruler and its implications disconnected from his narrative. Things got... out of hand.

Like the rats that they were, some teachers took his side. I like to believe that their hands were tied, and that out of fear that siding with Nenechi would bring them trouble, they backed Nakamura on his claims of unprompted aggression. I think the ones that I hated the most were the ones who said nothing at all.

Rational, level headed adults against two immature children, children who were just a couple of years away from becoming adults themselves.

I took my sentence in silence. I didn’t give Nakamura the pleasure of seeing me scared in his presence. Suspension, and a nice, cocky phone call to my household where he emphasized what a problem child I was.

Nenechi’s parents were outside the school, and waiting for their daughter to come out.

“Nenechi…” I spoke.

“Anon?” Her eyes shined with worried curiosity. Even now… even now she was still the same girl she ever was. She knew she was in trouble, she just didn't know why I was in trouble.

"I'm sorry." She bowed.

"What? No, no, please, ugh, it's my fault."

"Cheer up!" She smiled.

"Huh?"

Just like that, there she was. Bouncing back in a second. She told me the sweetest words I've heard to this day.

“There’s no time to be sad!” She smiled.

That was the last time I ever saw Nenechi. Her name was Momosuzu Nene, but I'll die calling her Super Nenechi.

~*~

After my suspension was over and I was back in school, Nenechi was nowhere to be seen. I would learn soon enough that the principal spoke with her parents, and saw fit to send her to a professional to finally correct her behavior. The rats from before stood against it, but it made no difference. It had been enough! She would be normal, for her own good.

The principal was authority in the school, her parents were authority of her.

Her history of misdemeanors and general airheadedness was a symptom of whatever they call it, but it was bad, and they had to expurge it! There was nothing wrong with her, goddammit!

She had the joyous spark of wonder, when she put her mind to something she did it! She was perfect the way she was!

I repeatedly went over to her house. I stood out waiting for the most fickle signs of life to show, but every day, the same story repeated itself. Either I saw nothing, or I thought I had seen the curtains shuffle. I thought I heard footsteps coming from her dorm, and then, the door didn't open. It remained shut, keeping me away from the closure I so desperately needed.

I did not falter, I had to see her, I had to see that she was okay. Finally, one day, the skies answered my pleas.

Her father was home for a change, this was the second time I saw him, the first being the day Nenechi kicked Nakamura in his nether regions.

He asked me who I was, what I wanted, all of those things.

When I mentioned that I was here to see Nene, his eyes shrugged at me.

“Go right ahead, she’s in her room.” he let me in.

And with dreaded steps I headed upstairs, I was aching to see her, to talk to her...

What I saw was not Nenechi. It was a carcass. A putrid imitation of what once was.

The drawings had been torn off the walls, pulled tape peeling the paint. Her plushies were nowhere to be seen. The only thing that remained was the beetles, and even then they seemed dead. They were dying along their owner.

I asked Nenechi how she had been. She was dull and lethargic, there was nothing inside her eyes, that vacuous and empty look you only find on people sterilized by poorly diagnosed mood-stabilizers.

“Nene…?” I muttered to whoever was in front of me.

“Uh?” She mumbled.

“Nene… eh, have you… what… what’s up?” I was getting shakier by the second, my hands trembled.

“Not much.” She mumbled again.

“Drawn anything?”

“No.

“You… uh… did you try the milkshake you wanted…?”

“Yes.”

“How was it?”

“Good.”

Where is she? Where is my Super Nenechi? By now she would’ve imploded in happiness, she should’ve been all over the place showing me the cool stuff she’s been doing...

My hands landed on Nene’s shoulders and I looked into her eyes for a spark of life, for a sign of Nenechi. Anything at all, and all I saw was the reflection of a broken man.

“Nene… What’s wrong?” I asked her, and myself as well. I didn’t know who I was talking to anymore. This is not my friend, this is an imposter...

“Eh?” She mumbled.

“Nenechi…!”

I leaned over her, I didn't know why. I was terribly mad, and I wanted answers. I held the poor girl under me as is she was the one who had them. A tear wet her cheek, but it wasn’t hers. It was mine. I was crying, and my tears were raining on her face one by one.

The last glimpse I had of Nenechi was in the form of a friendly hug. While I was breaking down, her arms came around me and pulled me close to her comfort. Wordlessly she held me while I sniffled.

Afterwards, I went home, I locked myself in my room, and I cried cursing everything, cursing this world, cursing its people.

She didn’t come back to school. In me, had brew a determination to get her back, if I made her parents understand what a wonderful person she was, surely they'd take off of those horrible meds!

No one answered the door when I knocked.

With time, her name disappeared off the attendance list. The last time I visited her home, I was met with strangers.

Like she had never existed.

She was the person she was, she didn’t do anything wrong, for fuck’s sake, all she needed was a place to shine, an entertainer, a cheerleader, a singer!

You monsters... what have you done with my friend!?

~*~

The flower has withered. I've never gotten over it.

I’m past the threshold of forgetting. Her memory is a part of me now. Back then, even in the bottom of depression I didn't think it would stick with me this long, yet here I am.

I know it was out of my hands, but I feel it looming over my shoulder that it was my fault. If I hadn't screamed...

Should my words ever reach you, Nakamura, I pray you get hit by a bus, and that I am a passenger of that bus. I would give my eyes to see you dying on the street like the dog you are, watch you vomit blood onto the asphalt as the empty light from your eyes returns to nothing.

At the same time, I hope that you know peace, because Nenechi wouldn’t want me to hold grudges. She’d tell me to forget about you and move on with my life, but Nenechi’s dead- No, she is alive, she lives inside my heart’s heart, with all her toys and her questions and her smile and her giggles and she's telling me all about her beetles. But ever since that day, it’s hardened. It’s encased in stone so that no one will hurt her ever again. Sadly, her kind words can’t reach me from there.

Not since the day my sun died.